Regretfully Uncaring

by RMWB

In one earth-shattering second, Harry's life changes forever as he becomes a werewolf. He must navigate new challenges, but for the first time in his life, he is surrounded by those who love him. With bolstered confidence, Harry makes many decisions, both triumphs and failures, that lead him and his friends down a very different path. AU - Original Plot - Ensemble Cast - Slow Burn.

29. Rise, Ginevra

A/N: Here. We. Go:

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"You have to mean it,"

Ginny scowled and lowered her wand in irritation. "I do mean it. But it still just… isn't working!"

Tom smiled sympathetically. "Well, maybe it's time we took a different approach," he waved his wand and levitated the rabbit up into his hand, where he promptly stuffed it in his pocket. "Come," he whispered.

Ginny rolled her eyes at his antics and followed him through the thick undergrowth. "I don't understand why you brought me here," she said after they'd been walking for a while.

Tom laughed. "Because it's important to me,"

Ginny frowned. "How come?" she asked. "I can smell the sea… and I can hear the birds. I mean, it's beautiful but what makes it so important to you?"

"This is where I first felt free," he explained. The density of the forest was thinning, and Ginny could see her surroundings a little better.

"Wow!" she cried, taking in the view of the waves crashing against the steep, dark rock. There was a pebbly beach down to the right. Tom surprised her by bringing her left, to the cliff face.

"Tom?" Ginny asked worriedly. "How are we supposed to get down?"

He turned and looked over his shoulder, showing her a dazzling smile. "Come on!" he cried incredulously, "I know you love an adventure,"

Ginny laughed and ran after him. Now that she stood on the precipice, she realized that the cliff was more of a steep incline than anything.

"Muggles… they wouldn't be able to climb this… but me and you?" he pointed to her and smiled mischievously. "We can do anything,"

Ginny blushed and watched Tom slowly make his way down the side of the cliff. "Watch for soft rock!" he told her.

Ginny scaled the cliff face with relative ease. Her boots would slip, and she'd be forced to rely on her hands, but she'd grown up in The Burrow. There wasn't much to do besides climb trees. She had experience.

Tom led her down over a large rock and in front of a small cave entrance. "How'd you find this?" Ginny asked, inspecting the small crevasse with an awed expression.

"It… called to me," Tom explained in a breathy whisper. "I brought some of my friends down here with me…" his face grew contemplative, and Ginny wondered what his friends had done to make him look like that. Whatever it was, she'd make sure they'd pay for their actions. "Stand back," Tom instructed, drawing his wand.

She took a step behind her and nearly slipped and fell into the sea. But Tom caught her. "You can't go stumbling around everywhere, Ginevra," he smiled at her, and she felt her face heat in embarrassment.

After Tom had helped her back up, he waved his wand at the cave entrance. "I was smaller when I last came here," he explained, turning to smile at her again as he wordlessly widened the cave's entrance.

Eventually, the ingress was large enough for Tom to make it through standing up. He lit his wand and led her in. It was a large cave. She couldn't see the ceiling in the dark, and the stone was almost obsidian in colour. It's smooth black surfaces reflecting Tom's wand light all around her.

There was something else about the cave, though… it was comforting, in a sense. Exhilarating in others. But it was dark. She knew that.

She didn't particularly mind it.

Tom brought the Rabbit out of his pocket again and placed it on the floor. "Pull out your wand, Ginevra," he instructed, and she did so.

"You need to mean it… really mean it,"

Ginny didn't have much of a reason to harm a rabbit, however. So how could she mean it? She voiced her concern and Tom frowned. "Well, because I want you to do it, of course. Is that not meaning enough?"

Ginny swallowed hard and cleared her throat, aiming her wand at the rabbit. "Crucio,"

---

Regretfully Uncaring

Chapter 29: Rise, Ginevra

---

June 24th, 1995

Ginny woke in a cold sweat, breathing heavily as though she'd just ran around the Quidditch pitch three times over. Her left arm ached with the aftereffects of performing the curse. It was like it still wracked her body. The dream was more of a memory, really. Something that had become increasingly common ever since she'd begun to pick away at the memory block of her first year.

It was strange. The more she broke through the barrier, the more things seemed to become unclear. Some of these flashes were Tom's memories that she had seen inadvertently or not. Others seemed to involve the two of them, standing side by side, like the one she'd just woken from.

On top of that, there were memories that Tom himself had seemed to block. Things he didn't want anyone, not even himself, to see. This wouldn't bother her so much, but what could be so revolting that Tom Riddle himself had to hide it.

Refusing to think about it at that very moment, she slid out of bed and padded off towards the loo. She inspected her hair in the mirror and grimaced. That would take a while to sort out.

Or she could just tie it all together and hope it holds. Yeah, that'll have to do.

She pulled off the hair elastic she always kept around her left wrist and quickly tied her long red hair into a disfigured lump on the top of her head. She kept the band on her left so that she'd feel the comforting pressure there. That pressure, added to by her watch, satisfied the need to feel something against the inside of her left wrist. She couldn't quite remember why she'd needed to feel something there, but she assumed it was something she'd eventually discover as she continued to dig through her mental block.

It was one of the many reasons she was hesitant to continue to pick away at it.

Pleased with her work, she turned back to the dormitory.

It was late. Four or five in the afternoon. She and Harry had both decided to take a nap seeing as neither of them had slept well the night prior. Well, neither of them had slept well for the past eight months, but that was beside the point.

Today it would all be over. The Third Task would wrap up and either Fleur, herself, Krum, or Harry would take the thousand galleons and eternal press annoyance.

At least, that was what everyone thought. Ginny, on the other hand, was most certain that there'd be some sort of meddling in the final task. The charms failing during the second task was due to corrupt Ministry officials – according to Sirius - but she just knew that Tom would have something lined up for her and Harry by the end of the night.

She knew he was up to something because, quite frankly, she understood him. She saw patterns in his actions with not only herself, but with the Philosopher's Stone as well. She could see it here.

If you share your mind with him for a year, you learn a thing or two.

There was no need to dress herself, as she was still wearing the clothes from that morning. She checked her watch and squinted to try and read the distorted image of the cracked face. Her parents could afford a new one, it was true. But she'd broken it during the First Task and had been determined to see it through until the end of the Tournament at the very least.

It was 5:44 in the afternoon. So that meant she had three hours, give or take, to prepare for whatever the hell she was going to face in that maze.

She made her way down the stairs into the common room and found Harry leaning against the back of the sofa, waiting for her. He was wearing a pair of muggle shorts and a plain white t-shirt. His broad shoulders were slouched a bit, but it wasn't unattractive. It was almost as though the shirt was pulling his shoulders in.

He was fidgeting with something in his lap. It was a small piece of parchment. He was carefully folding the small square into triangles. Smaller and smaller it got until he couldn't realistically fold it anymore. He threw it over his shoulder and finally looked up at her. He smiled stupidly and waited for her to come down.

Harry was odd like that. For six or so months now, he'd had been staring at her strangely. Like he was trying to figure something out.

Either that or he was just watching her, which was equally off-putting.

Months ago, she probably would have been over the moon with Harry's apparent interest in her, but she was certain there wasn't anything… romantic going on in Harry's head. He was probably just worried about her.

And besides, she didn't have time to go out with anyone at the moment.

"Morning," Harry greeted cheekily.

"Mhmm, hello," she said, stopping in front of him and folding her arms over her chest. "Are we heading down, then?"

Harry nodded absently and rose from his half-seated position, stretching his arms up high and making an odd squeaking sound as he relished the stretch. Ginny rolled her eyes at him, and he grinned down at her through squinted eyes.

Ginny made her way to the portrait hole with Harry following closely behind.

"So… what's the plan?" Harry asked lightly, jogging a bit to sidle in next to her.

"What do you mean?" Ginny replied, looking up at him curiously.

"Well, I was wondering if we had a sort of… plan for the maze…" he trailed off and frowned. "Listen, Ginny, I feel like we should probably stick together,"

"Isn't that cheating?"

Harry shook his head. "Not if we're probably going to get jumped by Riddle halfway through. I have a feeling you're right. I think there's more to this than just killing us off,"

Ginny couldn't discern whether or not it was a relief to hear that Harry agreed with her or a disappointment. "I suppose it would be best if we were together," she said slowly. "But what happens if we both reach the finish?"

Harry fell silent for a moment before his face lit up. "We do it together. We exit the maze as Hogwarts Champions. Blimey, the crowd'll lose their minds," he seemed quite afraid then, his face turning to one of abject horror.

Ginny snorted. "Right, well, that's a plan then,"

Harry nodded, smiling. "That's a plan."

They strolled into the entrance hall and were greeted with an odd sight. A woman with long brown hair stood there alongside Ginny's father, Bill, and Newt Scamander. The woman was holding a baby in her arms and was smiling kindly at her father. Next to her was Tonks, who was watching the way Alyssa was holding the baby as if she was studying an auror manual.

They hadn't noticed Harry and Ginny yet, so Harry cleared his throat. Everyone swiveled around to face them.

Harry's back straightened as the woman with brown hair stared intently at him.

Her father pulled himself out of conversation with the brown-haired woman and smiled at his daughter. She hadn't seen him since Charlie's funeral, which had been a small somber affair. This mystery woman was probably here for Harry, and judging by her father's dazed and giddy expression, she'd been talking to him about something muggle related. It was good to see him smiling like that, though.

"Ginny!" he cried; his voice echoed strangely around the desolate Hall. Most everyone was down in the grounds. There were fields of tents and portable housings that currently stretched across the grounds of Hogwarts for the Third Task. People from all around the world were here to watch. The new Pensive-Radios were a big help in letting everyone spectate, but the new enlarged stands of the Quidditch pitch also improved the grandiose Tournament.

He opened his arms in invitation. Ginny walked up and hugged him for a long time. Relishing the familiar contact. Her father was everything to her. He'd stood beside her throughout the summer after her first year. Without him, she'd be lost.

They drew apart finally, and her father swatted lightly at the bobble on her head. "This is… this is Alyssa, your sister-in-law," he explained, gesturing to the woman with the brown hair and child.

Ginny's eyes widened. This was Alyssa? The one who hadn't returned the invitation to Charlie's funeral. For her husband's funeral? Needless to say, Ginny didn't have a load of respect for the woman. She narrowed her eyes.

"… and this precious little bugger is Charlie," her father continued, and Ginny's focus was suddenly drawn to the bundle in the woman's arms.

"Charlie?" she asked heavily. Looking up at Alyssa with wide eyes.

"It was only fitting…" Alyssa said sadly. "Would you like to hold her?"

Ginny didn't think she was exactly mothering material. She was thirteen and, according to Fred and George, moderately insane. But she nodded and tried to mimic the position Alyssa's arms were in as she lowered Charlie in offering.

It, or rather, she, squirmed in her arms and Ginny frowned. It had been perfectly quiet and unmoving a second ago. "You're not supporting her head," Alyssa informed helpfully. Ginny nodded absently and readjusted her left arm to better support the unfamiliar mass.

It was a bit stressful, really, holding something that was alive and a person in her arms. This shriveled alien looking thing would be a someone with ambitions, fears, doubts, cravings and hobbies in a few short years.

Strange. It felt strange.

And she didn't like it much, in truth.

She lifted her arms delicately and looked up at Alyssa in a silent plea to have baby Charlie removed from her arms. Alyssa, thankfully, didn't seem disappointed, nor surprised at Ginny's reaction. She merely nodded and smiled. Hoisting her baby back into the safe dominion of her practiced hands.

Ginny let her arms drop from their cramping cradle position and wrung out her hands. Her prior apprehension returned. "Why didn't you come to the funeral?" Ginny asked, trying to avoid including any bite to her tone. She noticed out the corner of her eye that Harry was speaking to Tonks in a corner of the Hall. His expression was that of utter misery.

Ignoring that for now, she turned back to Alyssa who had a rueful expression on her face. "Well, for one thing, I had to take care of Charlie," she raised her arms slightly to indicate her daughter. "And… Charlie isn't gone for me," she continued.

Ginny frowned and noticed that her father seemed perfectly at peace with the statement. So, Alyssa must have told her dad about whatever she was on about. "What?" Ginny asked dangerously.

"I've heard you're well acquainted with a werewolf," Alyssa began, and the realization struck.

"He's your voice of reason! Charlie! He's the voice inside your head!" Ginny shouted a little too loudly. Luckily, no one except Harry, who was now sitting alone on the floor with his eyes closed, leaning against a wall, Bill, Newt and her father occupied the space.

Alyssa nodded and smiled. "He's trying to learn legilimency so that he can speak to you through me," she explained. "But he's learning through the resources in my head. My legilimency skills aren't exactly… fantastic. So, it might take a while,"

"That's okay!" Ginny blurted, her cheeks pinkening. "Can you…" she hesitated and bit her lip, there was pressure at the back of her eyes, but she blinked it away. "Tell him I say hi?" she said with the intonation of a question. "And that… I love him," she swallowed and nodded to herself.

Her father laid a comforting hand on her shoulder and Ginny leaned into it a bit.

"He says he's sorry," Alyssa began emotionally, "And that he loves you too, and that he wished he could have been there for you… more often,"

Ginny shook her head, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "No, Charlie… You were brilliant. You were more than enough,"

Alyssa nodded and cleared her throat slightly before smiling down at Ginny through her tears. "And he says that he'll be watching you kick everybody's arse in the Third Task,"

Ginny laughed and nodded vigorously. Oh, how she wished Tom wouldn't interfere.

Perhaps he wouldn't.

---

It was hours later, and Harry and Ginny were inside the Champions' tent built within the upgraded Quidditch stands. It'd become more of a stadium, really.

"Harry?" Ginny asked concern lacing her voice. "What's wrong?" he'd been quiet ever since Tonks had come to talk to him. Not only quiet but miserable. His expression looked so uncharacteristically crushed that Ginny genuinely would have thought Hedwig had died or something similar.

"Sirius," Harry replied, his voice carrying a bit of bite to the words. "He can't come… says he's got work to do,"

Ginny frowned. "He's been here for all the other tasks, though, hasn't he?"

Harry nodded sullenly. "He said he'd be here… and no, he wasn't here for the second task."

"That's what's got you down?" she asked a touch incredulously. "I understand the sentiment but-"

"I know it's nothing compared to Charlie," Harry interrupted. "I don't know I just never had people I wanted to see me succeed, you know? And now I have those people and they don't seem… invested? I don't know," he ran a hand through his messy locks and Ginny sighed in understanding, coming to sit next to him on the uncomfortable wooden bench.

"Well… my dad is here… and Alyssa… Bill too. They want to watch you succeed," Ginny tried, seeing if Harry would be uplifted by that. He still stared at the ground. "And I'll be right next to you. I want you to succeed,"

Harry laughed at that, picking up a pebble from the ground and rolling it between his fingers. "Sirius is different than your dad, or Remus… or…" he hesitated, glancing up at her through his eyelashes. He blushed and said, "or you."

Ginny felt her face heat and turned to watch the floor as Harry was.

"Sirius is like… he's my godfather, you know? And he's done so much. Like, the werewolf laws, and everything during the summer… but it feels like he just hasn't really been there, and it sort of… well it hurts," he paused and leaned his head back against the soft canvas creating ripples in the tent walls. "And I feel like such a pussy for whining about something so simple but I have these things now and yet it still feels like I'm alone,"

"Well, maybe he-" Ginny was cut off by the sound of the tent flap opening and a man decked head to toe with Tournament merchandise depicting Harry came striding over with a broad grin.

Harry immediately stood up and Ginny gaped in amusement at what was undoubtedly Sirius, though it was hard to tell underneath the sunglasses, Frilly top hat with a drawing of Harry moving around it, and what may have been a bit of makeup on his cheeks. "Oh my," he said, fanning himself, "Is that THE Harry Potter?"

Harry laughed and slapped the hat off Sirius's head, grinning like an idiot. "You're such a twit, Sirius," he was still chuckling as Sirius took off the more ridiculous items. "Tonks told me you couldn't come!"

Sirius gaped in shock at Harry. "What? I told her to tell you I'd be late, and not to worry!"

"Lost in translation?" Ginny supplied cheekily.

Harry didn't seem to mind though; he was just happy Sirius was here. "How's life with Narcissa Black?" Harry asked after their banter was over.

Sirius frowned. "She's still a Malfoy, unfortunately. Bill is still rather shaken after… well, after everything." he shot a cursory glance in Ginny's direction, whose features were schooled in a mask of ignorance.

"Besides," Sirius continued, "I see more of Elizabeth than Cissy,"

"Why?" Ginny asked incredulously.

Sirius's eyes widened in apparent annoyance. "I have absolutely no idea. But she's around far too often in my opinion."

Harry's laugh came out as a breath. "What does she even do?"

"Helps me around the grounds, I suppose," said Sirius. "There's this raven that keeps cropping up and she's been helping me find it. It's fun, really, she's good company but I can't help but wonder what her father thinks she's getting up to when she disappears for hours at a time,"

Harry snorted. "Her father didn't seem like the watchful type when I met him. He was just irrationally concerned with keeping his daughter as pure as possible," Sirius laughed at that and Ginny swatted Harry over the back of his head. Harry just grinned back at her.

"Listen, both of you," Sirius said, interrupting the good mood with his uncharacteristically grave tone, "I want you to watch your backs in there, alright? I mean… really watch your backs. This is his last chance to get to the two of you easily, so I wouldn't be at all surprised if he makes a move,"

Ginny wondered whether or not she should tell Sirius about her and Harry's suspicions. She shot a glance at Harry and saw he seemed to be thinking along the sae lines.

Unfortunately, Crouch and Bagman chose that moment to enter the tent and shoo away any visitors. "I'll see you after the task," said Sirius, forcing a smile and clapping Harry on the shoulder. "Love you, kid,"

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled in satisfaction. "Love you too, Padfoot."

"Mazes are dead easy," Sirius quipped as he backed out of the room. "You'll be in and out!" then, Crouch pushed Sirius out of the tent.

Holy fuck did Crouch look awful. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes had violently purple bags lapping underneath them. A good chunk of his hair had fallen out, too. He had a strange, faraway expression on his face and Ginny had the urge to avert her eyes.

She looked to Harry and widened her eyes in apparent shock, cocking her head to the side to indicate crouch. His eyebrows shot up and he nodded to her.

Bagman explained the rules. Their entry order was based on their total points scored over the course of the prior two tasks. Ginny was in first with 86 points, then it was Harry with 84, then Krum followed by Fleur.

They were instructed to change into their given uniforms and to wait in line in entry order until they were called forth by Bagman himself.

Each Champion left to their assigned changeroom and dressed themselves in the Tournament gear. Ginny frowned slightly at the fabric. It was firm material. Not skin-tight by any means, but certainly not something designed for a quick tumble through some hedges.

They'd been told there would be things inside the maze that they'd have to face. Honestly, Ginny had outsmarted a dragon by paying attention to its anatomy, so she wasn't too concerned.

If there was another one of those brains, however, that would be an issue.

She zipped up the suit and inspected her reflection for a moment. Her hair was still tied up rather loosely, so she undid it and gathered it all up into a ponytail before firmly tying it together. She couldn't have any hair in her face for this, and a ponytail was more comfortable than a bun.

She slid the curtain open and stepped in front of the tent flaps that led into the stadium. Harry sidled up behind her and tapped her shoulder. She turned to smile up at him.

"Hey Ginny?" Harry said nervously. "If this task ends… and we're alright…" he trailed off, staring deep into her eyes. If it was anyone else, it would have made her feel rather uncomfortable.

But this was Harry. There was an odd sense of familiarity that had grown over the months. As though she'd had eyes as powerful as Harry's stare at her before.

"If we're alright…, do you think we could hang out this summer?" he asked, smiling hesitantly.

Ginny gave him a bewildered smile. "Of course, we will. I'll come with Ron and the twins,"

Harry smiled briefly before he frowned slightly, averting his eyes and pulling at a thread on his jersey. "Right, yeah… but see- I sort of meant that… like, that you and I could hang out like… just me and you…" his cheeks were flushed red, and Ginny grinned stupidly.

"Yeah… yeah alright. That'll be fun," she replied. She didn't let herself think about it too much. Not with what was about to take place.

"Champions! If you will please make your presence known!" came the booming voice of Ludo Bagman from somewhere outside their tent. "Please welcome… Ginny Weasley!" Ginny breathed a silent "Here we go," to herself and pushed through the flaps. She was walking down a red carpet of sorts. Cameras and smiles flashed through her vision at a ridiculous pace. She waved nervously at everyone, growing more confident as she continued to walk this ridiculous celebrity status. Harry was called and she looked over her shoulder. His eyes went wide at the initial assault, but he quickly schooled his features to seem aloof to the whole situation. Smiling at reporters and signing autographs. Damn, he was a better person than she was. She was ignoring all the sheets of parchment being thrown in her face.

She made a beeline for the first person to show a quill and parchment after that, smiling pleasantly and exchanging awkward small talk with strangers who thought she was the most amazing thing. It was a bit revolting how the world was so focused on a thirteen-year-old girl. Ginny was no different than any other witch. She hated that people felt she was special.

That woman forms the Ball, Audrey Williams was up ahead, and Ginny let out her first legitimate smile since she'd left the tent. She practically ran to the poor woman, who had a small hand clutched in hers.

"Audrey!" Ginny called, offering her hand, which Audrey shook firmly. "It's good to see you," and it was. Even though she barely knew Audrey, at least she'd heard a bit about the woman's life.

Audrey seemed to agree with Ginny's assessment that they barely knew each other, but she smiled kindly and reciprocated the greeting. "How are you feeling?"

Ginny was a bit taken aback by the question, and she thought about it. In truth, she felt rather crummy at the moment. Her brother had died two months ago, she was a part of a sure-fire assassination attempt, she was panicking over what Tom had in store for her and Harry, and she was utterly confused over what Harry may have been hinting at over the past few months. Did he have feelings for her? Or did he pity her? What was happening?

All that being said, she smiled at Audrey and replied with a "I'm alright, really. A bit stressed,"

Audrey saw right through it and frowned at her. "You haven't got anything to live up to. Just be yourself and if this Tournament goes haywire, you'll be fine in the end. I'm sure of it,"

Ginny nodded vigorously, trying not to cry. In an attempt to distract herself, she turned to the young girl holding on to Audrey's hand and looking up at Ginny in awe. "Hello," Ginny greeted, blinking back her lapse in emotion. "Who might you be?" she could hear Harry asking similar questions to other kids down the carpet. Fleur and Krum were all doing the same as Harry and Ginny.

"I- I-," the girl stuttered. She had the same mousy brown hair as her mother and had very large gaps between her front two teeth, so she seemed to speak with a bit of a lisp. "I'm Lucy,"

Ginny smiled and crouched down to be eye level with Lucy. The thick red rope separating the two was tangling loosely, so Ginny could shake lucy's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you,"

Ginny could remember Audrey mentioning something about her daughter being a big fan of hers. It was decidedly strange to see a young girl wearing a t-shirt with Ginny's portrait on it. The Ginny on the shirt was smiling mischievously with a glint in her eye. Her namewas written in gold lettering at the top right. "I like your shirt," Ginny commented idly, pointing to Lucy's chest.

Lucy blushed and hid behind Audrey's leg, who laughed. Ginny rose back to her feet and smiled down at Lucy before turning her attention back on Audrey. "Thank you," she said quietly enough that only Audrey could pick up on it. Well, and Harry, she supposed, due to his wolfish senses.

"Champions! If you would please meet at the maze entrance!" Bagman's voice boomed around the stadium. From where the Champions were standing, they were in a sort of in-between area. Essentially under the stands and in between the grounds of Hogwarts and the Quidditch pitch. Ginny made her way along the carpet next to the rest of the other Champions. Harry to her left and Fleur to her right. Krum was next to Harry, slumped and awkward. She'd expect him to be the most comfortable with this sort of thing, seeing as he was a professional Quidditch player.

They made it into a clearing where the large goal hoops would typically reside. Tall hedges rose above it all, and Ginny could see people attempting to throw stuff over their balconies and into the maze, only for it to land on an invisible ward. Clearly this would be another 'spectators can see them, but the participants can't see or hear out' situation.

Bagman was there on a podium, his wand directed at his throat, smiling jovially. Crouch was off to his left appearing nauseous as ever. Beside Crouch was the assortment of headmasters.

"We are gathered here on this… historic day to watch and enjoy the final Task of the modern Triwizard Tournament!" the cheers were deafening, and Ginny fought the urge to clamp her hands down over her ears. She'd need her hearing in that maze. And she had no intention of going in deaf. Harry had his eyes glazed over and seemed perfectly comfortable. He'd told her all about being able to ask his mother to block out or filter certain senses. Sure enough, his eyes returned to normal, and he seemed much more at peace.

"Now, today's task is a bit… unique," Bagman continued. "We've told our Champions that they will be facing a maze with dangerous creatures," his voice wavered dramatically over the word dangerous, wriggling his fingers like a mum on Halloween. "But it's a little more than that… the maze you see… it doesn't like monotony," Ginny groaned. Could it not just be a simple maze with beasts? "The maze likes change… and you are going to have to play to its strengths, as well as your own, to reach your goal of the Task… which is… THE TRIWIZARD CUP!" there was a stand, off to his right that had been covered by a tarp. Well, what it was concealing had been unveiled, displaying a beautiful diamond trophy.

Ginny hadn't had much incentive to win this Tournament. Her and Harry had joked at the start about how it would be fun to win, but now she really, really wanted that cup. She could see it in her minds eye. Holding the trophy aloft along with Harry. The first ever duo win of the Triwizard Tournament. They'd say they'd cheated, but it wasn't against the rules… maybe Harry could duplicate it and give one to her and one to himself. Or perhaps they could cut it down the middle.

Either way, Ginny's competitive streak had been struck, and she was determined to make sure Krum, at the very least, had nothing to brag about by the end of the night.

Of course, these ridiculous childlike dreams and glorification died in her mind the second the laughing taunting face of Tom Riddle flashed before her eyes. The vision she'd gotten from the lake in the Second Task continued to haunt her.

'You are what I made you. You are The Key. The Key to it all.Rise, Ginevra,'

Shaking herself mentally, she turned to Harry, who had a similar look on his face. That of concentration and determination. He wanted to win, yes, but the underlying threat could not go ignored.

They couldn't be distracted by dreams.

In all this time spent inside her head, she hadn't realized that Bagman had called her up. The crowd cheered and applauded. Ginny heard the twins scream her name. She smiled at that. The twins had been terribly depressed since Charlie's death, but they'd slowly regained a spark of their typical selves.

She stood before a blank wall of hedge as instructed. "Ready…" Ginny wondered whether or not Bagman had gone mad. The maze was not currently accessible. "Three, Two, One, GO!" The hedge opened into an archway and Ginny was inexplicably reminded of the nightmare she'd had a few hours prior.

Of the cave in the sea.

The cave.

Pushing aside those thoughts, Ginny ran into the maze with reckless abandon. She felt herself travel through the wards and the terrifying reality of no sound or smell hit her. It was dizzying, and she had to take a moment. She heard the blast of a canon and jumped before something collided with her.

"Shit, Ginny, sorry," said Harry from the ground.

Ginny got to her feet, brushing herself off. "S'alright, Harry," she replied easily. "We should probably get going to avoid any more trampling," she grinned and offered her hand to Harry, who took it readily and smiled at her for a brief second before turning to the maze.

"I'm dreadful at mazes, I'll have you know," he said as he began to make his way through the hedges. They could see the end of this current corridor. It forked left and right.

"How is that possible? Mazes are the most simplistic puzzle,"

Harry frowned. "I'm only saying that I'm one of those people who looks at the back of a cereal box and gets rather confused," he said defensively.

Another canon shot went off, and they heard light footfalls from behind them. They whirled around, wands raised, and were met with Fleur. "Goodluck?" she said, with a forced smile. Her eyes were wide as they looked over Ginny's shoulder to the fork in front of her.

Harry and Ginny murmured their thanks and returns and watched as she sped past them and went left. "Well, I suppose that means we'll go right," said Harry, choosing a light jog for this next portion. Ginny matched his speed and ran after him.

They continued on like this for what felt like hours. Harry would occasionally break the silence with some information from his mother. She didn't have much of an idea of what to do either. The ceiling of the domed wards was white. It cast a near constant unnatural white light to illuminate the maze, and it made the whole thing feel incredibly manufactured. It also prevented the Champions from seeing out to the spectators.

After long enough, however, Ginny couldn't help but sense that they really hadn't run into anything.

"This isn't right," said Harry after a moment. "This crossroads… we've been here before. We're going in circles,"

Ginny frowned. Surely, they hadn't? "Well, we ought to leave something behind…"

"Transfiguration?" Harry offered. Ginny nodded, and with a wave of his wand, Harry made one of the leaves bright red. "That should hold for a while. It isn't too complex,"

They returned to that same crossroads so many different times. Eventually, they grew sick of it, and Ginny plopped down to the soft ground. She rested her chin on her palm. "Part of me just wants to blast at the walls of the thing," Harry mused aloud. Inspecting the hedge.

Ginny sat up. "That's it!" she cried. She got to her feet and aimed her wand at one of the walls. "Reducto!" she yelled. A jet of magic erupted from the tip of her wand and crashed into the hedge, but nothing happened. If anything, the hedge seemed to absorb the magic.

"Damn," she said dispassionately. She tried to run a hand through her hair, but it got caught on her ponytail. She let her arm drop, opting to keep her hair up in spite of her need to fidget. "Any ideas?"

Harry looked at her for a moment. He seemed as disappointed at she had been at the lack of results from her reductor curse, but he appeared to be thinking something over. "What if we're looking at this all wrong," he said after a minute. "What if this is just a metaphor for something. We're locked in here, right? Locked in a loop that continues to lead us in the same direction,"

Ginny nodded.

"Key word is locked, isn't it?" he said rather excitedly. He pointed his wand at the direct center of the crossroads. "Alohamora!" the sound of roots moving through dirt met her ears, breaking the otherwise impenetrable silence of the maze's enchantments. The hedges were sinking into the earth. They now stood in a small clearing. In the center stood a man.

"Ginevra what are you doing?" the man's cool, calculated voice spoke.

Ginny froze. Already? They hadn't even reached the cup. Surely someone was watching this. Surely someone could see Tom Riddle was standing right there.

"You know, when I left you… I so wanted to leave a piece of me behind…"

Harry raised his wand, but Ginny only stood there, stunned. "Get away from her!" Harry cried. Tom was approaching the two of them, but his eyes were focused on none but her.

"But you know what I felt was a better reminder, Ginevra? Guilt." the word echoed around the clearing. "You still wake with blood on your hands. You still wake to the screams of Potter," he smirked. His robes, perfectly tailored, the prefect badge glinting in the unnatural light. He looked no older than when she'd last seen him. "Hadn't Harry said he looked different now? That he was barely even human?" the thought was practically mute at the back of her mind as Tom approached her. "Because he would have died for you. He almost did… but I felt it better to leave you both scarred. Marked."

Harry shot off a stunning spell, but it bounced right off Tom's chest. What the hell was happening. Where were the judges? Had he killed everyone in the stands? She was petrified. Her breathing coming out in harsh gasps.

"You had… have so many uses, Ginevra," he continued silkily. He walked closer, Harry seemed unable to move. He was shaking. Tom reached out and grabbed a tendril of Ginny's hair. He twirled it around his finger a bit, reminding Ginny of a memory far happier. Of one of her and Elizabeth shopping for ball gowns. Tom's eyes shone with pity. As though he truly cared. "What would happen if he ever found out? If Harry Potter learned the truth." Ginny trembled underneath his touch and shivered as he backed away. Slowly but surely, he crept further into the center of the clearing, before he shifted. His body morphed and suddenly it all came to the front of Ginny's mind.

She'd faced Tom this way before. Back in October before the Goblet of Fire ruined everything. This Tom was a boggart. Tom shifted into Harry. Ginny knew what came next.

"I can't believe you felt that way. I can't believe you let yourself become this… How could anyone… any sane person, feel that way," he said. Real Harry raised his wand and cried, "Riddikulus!"

The boggart was blasted back. Clearly, this wasn't a weak one, however. It got back to its feet. Two Harry's facing each other. Their expressions were both set in a determined mask of anger and determination.

Then, the boggart turned and convulsed until there stood a beautiful young woman with auburn coloured hair. Her eyes were a piercing emerald green, just like Harry's. It was Lily Potter.

Harry faltered, taking a step back somewhat. Ginny couldn't understand his reaction. She was merely standing there. Why would that surprise him? He knew it was a boggart now. The game was up.

"I'm sorry, Harry…" Boggart-Lily said with a frown. "I tried to leave you before, but you had to get yourself bitten, didn't you."

Harry gaped at the boggart. Again, Ginny couldn't understand what his issue was. He knew this was a boggart.

"I don't think you need me anymore," Boggart-Lily said with a shrug. "You'll be fine without me, don't worry," she gave him a kind, loving smile, and turned around. Walking away from him. Harry just watched her retreating figure with a horrified expression.

Ginny had had enough. She raised her wand and shouted the same spell as Harry had before. This time, it was too much for the boggart, which promptly exploded in a shower of sparks.

"Harry what's wrong?" she asked, coming to stand next to him. Merlin, he was tall when she was this close.

"She left," he said simply. His eyes clouded over as he entered a mental conversation with his mother. Ginny sighed and waited. Eventually, with a low exhale, Harry came back.

"It's only a boggart," she soothed.

Harry nodded distractedly. "That isn't the problem," he said quietly. "It used to be a Dementor… I don't know what caused it to change."

Ginny's mouth fell into an 'o' shape and Harry smiled briefly at her before laying his wand flat on his palm and instructing it to point him North. They followed his wand for a long while.

"I thought there were dangerous creatures hidden in this maze," said Ginny after a few too many minutes of pressing silence.

"I reckon it's been modified for us," Harry replied, never taking his eyes off what was in front of him. "I think they're guiding us to the finish. You know, Riddle, I mean."

Almost as the words left the tip of his tongue, the hedge to his left opened to form an archway. His head whipped around to face it and he froze. Ginny peered around his body and held a similar reaction.

There it was. The Triwizard Cup. It was glowing brilliantly in the light of the wards. Harry inched through the archway hesitantly, but when nothing happened, he shrugged and strode slowly and deliberately towards the cup.

Suddenly, Fleur came running into the clearing. She spotted Harry and Ginny and hesitated. They each stood a few meters away from the cup. "You two should go," she said, gesturing to Harry and Ginny.

They looked at each other for a moment before shaking their heads. "All three of us. We all got here at the same time, didn't we? Where's Krum?" Harry asked, finally noticing the lack of the fourth Champion.

Fleur scowled. "He tried to attack me," she said angrily. "I fought him off,"

Harry frowned and Ginny couldn't help but find that odd as well. Although her time with the Durmstrang Champion had been brief, she had gotten the impression that he was an alright bloke.

"You don't always get a good measure on people's character though, do you?"

Ginny brushed that thought aside and walked towards Fleur. Tom had yet to attack them, she might as well get the innocent member out of this Tournament before he came. "You should take it, Fleur. Me and Harry didn't sign up for this. We were never meant to be a part of the Tournament. You deserve to win it. You're a formidable witch, and Beauxbatons doesn't get enough recognition over here."

Fleur was having none of it. "All three of us, or only the two of you," she said firmly.

Harry sighed and Ginny turned to him with a silent question. "Alright, Fleur, we'll do it together,"

The three of them walked confidently towards the cup. "On three," said Harry loudly. "One… Two… Three!" they each grabbed one of the three handles and Ginny let out a quiet gasp as she felt a hook plunge deep behind her navel and pull her forward into the spinning abyss of a portkey.

---

Harry hit the ground hard. His shins rammed up into his kneecaps and he heard a horrific crunching sound. He collapsed onto his back and heard two other bodies do the same.

"This is it, Harry. This must be his plan,"

Harry didn't need his mother for this realization, however. He tried to get to his feet but found that he couldn't. It wasn't close enough to the full moon to ask her for a healing spell. "Ginny!" he shouted out into the night. He raised his head to look around and heard a muffled groan from somewhere to his left. He shook his head slightly, clearing it of the hazy fog, and turned to Ginny. She was staring at him through glazed eyes. "Do you know any healing charms?" Harry asked.

Ginny nodded and crawled forward. Harry could hear someone else getting up and figured it must be Fleur. He felt a warm tingling sensation build in his two knees before it cleared, and a dull throb remained. "I healed the bones… but the bruising will stay. You'll need a paste for those. I'm afraid it'll still hurt quite a bit,"

Harry shook his head and muttered a quiet "thank you," before slowly getting to his feet.

He could smell something. It was vaguely familiar, and he couldn't decide if he recognized it or if his mother did. Then, he heard a shuffling that was most certainly not coming from Fleur, who was now standing with her wand in hand.

A quiet muttering met his ears. He wouldn't have been able to hear it without his wolf senses, but it sounded like parseltongue. He could hear something slithering in the grass.

"HARRY! Hide the Elder Wand. You cannot let him find it. HIDE IT!"

Harry, in a blind panic, ran towards the nearest headstone. He froze. This was the grave of Tom Riddle. He shook his head to try and wake himself from his post-portkey daze. "Fleur! You need to run. You need to hide! Get out of here! Hide!" he shouted over his shoulder. She didn't wait for further instruction. She leapt into action and bolted off to her right, deep into the cemetery.

Harry weaved through tombstones and small trees and shrubs. The air was thick with magic, though it was not the comforting kind. He could hear Ginny running after him.

He found a shrub that had a small hole dug underneath it. Not knowing what else to do, he stuck The Elder Wand in deep within the shrub. It would take a skilled eye, perhaps only that of a werewolf, to notice that this extra stick was in fact not part of the shrub.

"Harry Potter…" the voice was high and cool. "Ginevra Weasley… come…"

Ginny turned to Harry. "Is that… is that him?" she seemed to be in utter disbelief. Harry couldn't blame her. The last time she'd seen or heard Tom Riddle had been when he'd been young and charming. The man who had manipulated the world into believing he was a kind and talented young man.

"Yes. That's him," said Harry with a nod. He stood straight, pulling his shoulders back and letting his Adam's apple protrude unconsciously. "That's Voldemort,"

Ginny nodded. "Tom is dead," she said, seemingly to herself.

Harry watched her for a moment. Her face was a stone-cold mask of determination and anger. She had a hard, blazing look in her eyes that made Harry give and involuntary shiver.

"Do we face him?" Harry asked, though he knew the answer. He could see far off into the distance, once again thanks to his wolfish senses, Fleur was crouched behind a tombstone, holding her knees. She must have heard Voldemort's sonorous charm.

Ginny gritted her teeth. "We face him…" then, her expression softened. "Together, right?" her eyes still had that blazing look about them, but this time it wasn't frightening. It was spectacular. Lighting up her face and overflowing with emotion.

Harry nodded. "Until the end," he said. Essentially repeating what he'd told her nearly a month ago in the kitchens.

Ginny began to walk back the way they came. Her actions were deliberately calm, but Harry could see how tense she was, even through her jersey. Harry walked right alongside her all the way up to the back of Tom Riddle's tombstone.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny led them around the stone and into the clearing.

There were two men. One of which made Harry want to lash out and scream. Peter fucking Pettigrew and a young man with straw-coloured hair stood beside a large stone cauldron. Pettigrew was holding what appeared to be an infant. Harry truly did not want to know what would happen to the child.

The young man with straw-coloured hair was smiling at them both. He seemed quite… normal. Deceivingly so, Harry thought. His eyes shone with an odd indication of intelligence. Harry couldn't quite explain why or how he felt this way, but he was sure that was what he was seeing. There was something about his cheeks, however, that truly caught his attention. He had very high protruding cheekbones, similar to those of Tom Riddle when he'd made the diary. Harry couldn't pinpoint who it was that this young man's visage reminded him of, but he was certain it was a recent memory.

"Crouch?" Ginny asked with a bewildered tone of voice. Harry refused to turn to her, but he narrowed his eyes in confusion. Mr. Crouch was back at the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. Wherever they were now, and Harry was pretty sure it wasn't Scotland, judging by the surrounding scenery, Crouch was far away. Besides, the judge Harry knew was a depressed, ancient old Ministry tosspot. This… boy was nothing more than a fool who'd clearly fallen for Voldemort's persuasions.

"You know me?" the man asked with a collected voice. He was still smiling at them both. His eyes shot from Harry to Ginny and back again.

Ginny's forehead crinkled. "You look like him. I'd assume that my guess was correct then?"

Crouch bobbed his head from side to side in contemplation. "I suppose I do look like my father… and yes, that would mean that your guess was, in fact, quite correct." he nodded to her and turned to Harry.

"What about you? Why did the girl recognize me so fast, yet you seem completely oblivious?" Crouch sneered.

Harry was taken aback somewhat by the man's sudden shift to cruelty but he refused to show it. "Well I noticed the cheekbones but I didn't go about piecing-"

"ENOUGH!" it was Voldemort who shouted, a silencing charm landed upon Harry, and he could tell by the awkward shuffle Ginny performed to his left that it had landed on her as well. "Wormtail… Barty… I am weak… Complete the ritual!"

"Get ready,"

Harry's old wand with its phoenix feather core was pulled out of his inner pocket and thrown through the air. It was caught blindly by Crouch, who seemed to have taken Ginny by surprise as well, catching her wand in his right hand. The ground beneath them shook, and Harry tried to move but vines shot up from the ground and grabbed hold of his and Ginny's ankles. They were both pulled form under their feet and fell flat on their faces. The silencing charms were still in effect, so it was a mad compilation of the sounds of their bodies being brutally dragged up to the large tombstone on the edge of the highest point of the graveyard. He felt himself get lifted by the vines before his back was slammed into the stone. He heard Ginny hit it as well. He turned to her and saw blood trickling from her nose. This was already off to such a terrible start.

Suddenly, a fire was lit beneath the cauldron. Large steel containers began to float their way out from behind various tombstones. Each container was being magically guided by crouch with lazy flicks of his wand. They'd be hoisted up into the air above, before being opened and emptied into the cauldron.

Harry couldn't help but feel as though the cauldron was being filled with milk. He could hear his mother trying desperately to figure out what was going on. The full moon was nearly a month away, so he couldn't use her power to enhance his own. That had been the only time he'd accomplished any form of wandless magic. Though it had been a simple summoning spell, and it was completely accidental.

He tried to flex his hand and think about summoning his wand, but his wrists were bound, and he felt no magic within him stir.

The cauldron was filled to half, and Wormtail adjusted the infant in his arms. He stepped forward and now, from the vantage point Harry and Ginny were at, he could see that the infant was in fact Voldemort. His small, frail body was a revolting sight. He saw Ginny wretch from his left and couldn't blame her. He was fighting the urge to do the same himself.

Wormtail raised the bundled Voldemort high into the sky before dropping him into the cauldron with a splash. Harry felt something against his foot and looked down. There was an enormous snake looping in and around his legs. He'd never seen a snake that big, save the Basilisk, for obvious reasons.

Harry tried to speak to it in parseltongue, to get it to help them, but the silencing charm wouldn't allow it. Harry turned back to the ritual at hand, and felt bile rise into his throat, creating a brutally uncomfortable stinging sensation. Wormtail was holding his hand over the cauldron. A sharp silver knife was held tightly in his left hand. His mouth was moving, clearly, he was repeating the instructions of the ritual to himself. Then, to Harry's horror, Wormtail sliced off his dominant hand. It fell into the potion, which had now become a dull grey. "Please drown," Harry thought repeatedly. "Just fucking drown!"

Pettigrew raised his wand and levitated a bone up and into the solution.

Harry turned to look at Ginny and saw only revulsion plastered across her face. Her eyes were wide, and she seemed truly disgusted with what was proceeding before them.

"Milk… bone… flesh of the… HARRY HE'S BUILDING A BODY!"

"What? How is that possible? He doesn't have a Philosopher's Stone!"

Harry was brought out of his mental conversation by Wormtail who was stumbling towards them. Crouch was standing there, his right elbow resting on his left forearm. His chin laying against his right fist with an intrigued smile. It was far worse to see someone appear so nonchalant about everything that was transpiring. Wormtail was, at the very least, crying as he came to Harry, knife in hand.

His mouth moved, his words and pathetic little voice drowned out by the silencing charm. Harry saw Crouch wave his wand absently, and the vines holding Harry's forearm pulled it forward and down to Pettigrew's reach.

Harry could see Ginny writhing to his left, trying to get to him.

"Peter, no! Come on, Peter…" Lily wailed.

But Peter couldn't hear his old friend's cries. He couldn't hear the victim of his actions telling him to stop, to rethink. To make the right choice even after all these years.

So, he continued with his actions. He sliced open Harry's skin in a horizontal line across his palm. Harry thought he was going to die, then. The silver of the knife against Harry's skin, creating an open cut, was like nothing he could have ever imagined. The transformation felt like a blissful summer's day compared to this. He screamed and screamed until he felt something break, then the sounds of his wails could be heard. He'd broken through Voldemort's wandless silencing charm. Ginny was crying in silence to his left, trying to reach out to him.

Crouch seemed genuinely shocked by Harry's reaction, as did Peter, who stumbled back and fell into the grass, still clutching the blood-soaked knife.

Crouch gave Harry a penetrating look, and Harry felt his mother put up occlumency shields, even in her weakened state from the silver. Harry's body was still shaking, his eyes wide. He was panting, drool leaking from the corner of his mouth and mixing with the tears that had crashed down his cheeks.

Something seemed to click in Crouch's expression, and though he couldn't speak due to the charm, he grinned manically at Harry and stepped away, aiming a kick to Wormtail's side.

Pettigrew got to his feet and made his way to the Cauldron. He held the knife up over the potion and tapped it with his forefinger, forcing three drops of Harry's blood to fall into the potion.

The contents of the cauldron turned a hellish pink, and then Harry stared on in horror as Wormtail made his way to Ginny.

"Don't you fucking touch her!" he shouted into the cold, desolate night. How could a summer evening such as this feel like the harshest of winters.

Pettigrew turned his tearful gaze to Harry. Something in his eyes was pleading, and Harry wondered if perhaps the traitor held some remorse. Perhaps he truly did hate himself.

"You tell Voldemort to call you by the name they gave you!" he bellowed. "Too ashamed to hear your real name, eh Pettigrew? Peter FUCKING Pettigrew? Go on and kill yourself then!" Harry spat, hoping that his quick judge of character was accurate.

It seemed Harry had hit a nerve, because Pettigrew's eyes narrowed at Harry and his cheeks flushed. He mouthed something to Harry in apparent anger and continued towards Ginny. Harry struggled against his magical binds. He tried to kick out at Wormtail but it would seem that Harry's comment had done nothing but enrage the pitiful excuse of a man.

He sliced into Ginny's forearm. It went from the crease of her elbow down to the beginnings of her palm. Blood poured out freely and Harry felt a crazed panic take him over. "You're going to kill her! You fucking degenerate you're going to kill her!" Harry could feel tears pressing at the back of his eyes, but he blinked them back. He needed to see what followed with utmost clarity. There was so much blood pouring from Ginny's arm. She was twisting and trying to break free, but it only caused more blood to pour out over her arm. She was crying freely now, her tears mixing with the blood from her nose.

"Put her right!" Harry shouted to Crouch. "HEAL HER!"

Crouch slowly ambled over to where Harry and Ginny were tied up. His hateful smirk was dominating his face, and Harry wanted nothing more than to line the man's teeth up to a curb and break his neck. So revolting were Harry's thoughts at the moment that he blocked out anything his mother was saying.

Crouch raised his wand painfully slowly. He then stabbed his wand into Ginny's slit wrist. Her screams finally broke through the silencing charm and Harry wished he'd never had the misfortune of hearing them. It made him want to run and cry and beg for it to stop. It was worse than hearing himself. It was worse than feeling the silver blade penetrate his skin. He'd do anything to make sure that Ginny never made that sound again.

And it continued for what felt like hours. Blood poured out and over her arm, her movements grew weak, and Crouch's wand grew bloodier. Ginny's shouts became quieter, and Harry could see the colour leaving her cheeks. It was at this moment that Crouch finally removed his wand from the innards of her arm and sewed the cut back together. He pulled a small phial from his robes and brought it to Ginny's lips. She refused at first, but eventually granted him access. The dark red liquid spilled down her front a bit before she finally let most if it go down. The colour seemed to instantly return to her face, but she was still paler than she had been before. Everything about her seemed weary.

Harry watched as Wormtail finally made his way towards the cauldron with an obscene amount of Ginny's blood all over him. He performed the same actions with the bloodied knife as he had done with Harry's. Three drops fell in.

The potion underwent another colour change. This time, it morphed from pink to a dark red. Harry could feel the magic emanating from within the cauldron now. Its sides began to melt. The potion seemed to turn to a white mist that spread over the rims of the cauldron.

The mist spread, covering the graveyard in a thick layer of knee-deep fog. But where the cauldron once was, there was a large globe of fog. It was like a cloud had settled down on earth for a change.

The globe seemed to shrink, and Harry could make out the outline of a slim figure. Even through the fog, Harry knew it to be skeletal. Its hips protruded disgustingly. Its arms seemed to be nothing but skin and bone. Its skull was overly large compared to its neck. The form rolled its head around, as though relieving pressure from its spine. Then, with a simple wave of its hand, the fog condensed and transfigured into a fine pair of black robes. They wrapped around it layer by layer, before a cape settled onto its shoulders. It threw its head back and let its hands roam its figure. Everything about it was unnatural. Now that the globe of fog had cleared, the finer details came into view. Its skin colour was pearly white. It was almost slimy, yet the body suggested a tale of a corpse in a desert.

Voldemort's body was insufferable to look at.

He waved his hand again and suddenly the deep, heaving breaths of Wormtail could be heard again. Harry's wolf senses picked up on Crouch's calm breathing pattern as well.

"My loyal servants…" said Voldemort coolly. He strode over to where Wormtail lay crumpled on the ground. "You have served me well… even through such… undesirable means," he reached out to Wormtail, who seemed beyond pleased at Voldemort offering help in getting to his feet. He reached up, ready to grab Voldemort's hand when Voldemort laughed. "I will not help a coward off the floor. I would like my wand, Wormtail,"

Pettigrew's cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he dug within the folds of his robes for Voldemort's wand. He finally retrieved it and handed it out to his master. Harry had an involuntary shiver run down his spine at the sight of the wand. It was so eerily similar to his own. Everything but the colour was the same. The handle, the smooth and intricate carvings of triangular leaves up to the tip. It was all the same.

Harry briefly turned to Ginny, who was staring at Voldemort with an expression he truly couldn't discern. Her eyes conveyed a great sadness, but her face was contorted in revulsion.

Voldemort took his wand hand and closed his blood-red eyes. He seemed to relish in the power of it. Perhaps it was the familiarity he felt with his long unused tool. "You are a coward and a fool, Wormtail," he said, glaring down at the man in question with an expression of utmost contempt. "However, … I must admit that without you, I would be no where,"

Pettigrew's smile flitted across his face with pride, and perhaps gratefulness.

"You have served your purpose well," Voldemort continued calmly. "And I expect you to continue in that manner for future endeavours,"

Pettigrew nodded. "Y-yes, my lord. You will always have a loyal servant in me," he stuttered out.

Voldemort smiled evilly at Peter. He waved his wand and tendrils of silver slipped out of the stub of his arm, where his hand once resided. The silver weaved like painted wind and solidified in the shape of a hand. Pettigrew flexed it and stared in wonder at his gift. "Thank you! Oh, thank you my Lord!"

Voldemort straightened and continued to stare down at Wormtail. "If you ever hesitate in enacting my orders. If you ever think of betraying me the way you betrayed your friends… that gift will perform what I see fit. Do you understand my meaning, Wormtail?"

The rat nodded rapidly. His water eyes shot towards Harry and Ginny and Voldemort followed his gaze. "Yes… I'll get to the two of you in a moment," he said with a smile. His flattened face stretched horridly, and Harry fought the urge to look away.

Voldemort strode to Crouch and held out his hand. It would appear that this particular servant was not nearly as inept as Peter, because Crouch drew his wand and levitated a large glowing object from behind a tombstone and into the clearing. Harry realized with a start that it was the Triwizard Cup.

"Harry, portkeys are often rigged for return journey's as well. That's your way out of here!"

"But what about Fleur?"

Harry was once again drawn out of his mental conversation by the sound of multiple pops of apparition. There were twelve men who stood in a large circle of the clearing. They all gasped and quickly dropped to their knees. Some went as far as to crawl forward in an attempt to kiss the foot of their master.

Voldemort had the Triwizard cup floating above his hand wandlessly. He eyed the circle in poorly concealed disgust.

"You are all a great disappointment to me," he said softly. "You truly thought I'd been defeated by an infant? A boy no older than one. You are all fools," he spat.

"We thought… we thought you dead, sir," said a large man dumbly.

Voldemort flicked his wand toward the man and screeched, "Crucio!"

The man fell to his knees screaming and writhing on the fog covered ground. Harry wouldn't have been able to see him had his motions not kicked up dirt and jostled the fog around.

Eventually, Voldemort grew bored of torturing the man and released the curse. "Let's see who we have here," Voldemort began. He strode to the person across from Harry and Ginny. None of the men were wearing masks. They must have felt Voldemort's call and left whatever they were doing.

"Macnair," Voldemort began listing them all off. "Crabbe, Goyle," he pointed to the man crumpled on the floor, still suffering from the aftereffects of the Cruciatus. "Nott, Selwyn, Yaxley…" it continued in this vein for a while. Some of the names Harry recognized, others were new to him. The name of a particular middle-aged man caught Harry's attention, however. "Greengrass… why this is quite the surprise!" Voldemort cried gleefully. "You took the mark, yet you remained neutral… and here you are…"

Greengrass stared back at Voldemort defiantly. "I am still neutral. I will not fight for you; I will not fight for them. I seek only the safety of my family," he paused and smirked. "I figured it would be better for me to come and make myself clear than for you to come to me,"

Voldemort didn't seem offended. In fact, he laughed. It was not a warm sound, however. It was deranged and inhuman. "That is something I always liked about you, Lord Greengrass," Harry's eyes widened. Voldemort was using formal terms with the man. For someone who felt he was above everyone, he seemed to harbour a great deal of respect for Greengrass. "Though, I'd like to open the opportunity for you to join me properly,"

Lord Greengrass shook his head. "No. My loyalties lie with my family, and my family alone."

Voldemort nodded absently, as though this was something he was expecting and not something he was mortally offended by. "Very well, you may go," Greengrass nodded to Voldemort and disappeared in a swirl of robes.

"Now… I trust that you will all remain faithful to our noble cause?" Voldemort asked to his circle of followers. "For we have much work to do. Since we last met, this world has fallen into the hands of fools. I trust that with my return, the world will once again fear my name. Far too many have grown comfortable in my absence. There are mudbloods to remove. Half-breeds to vanquish… Can I trust in you to find me new followers. To entrust your children to me. To fight alongside me for control of the Wizarding World? Let me make myself quite plain… I seek dominion. There will be no half-ways for us."

The circle nodded and cheered. Not a single one fled.

"Good. Now, many of us are missing tonight… My most loyal followers are locked up in Azkaban." Voldemort stated with confidence. "There is one, however, who will be punished most severely once we break the walls of the prison… do you know who he is?"

Harry felt like he had a pretty strong idea on who it was. He could tell that the rest of the Death Eaters were just as aware. Though none of them spoke. Harry turned his head to face Ginny, who was watching to proceedings with disinterest. Harry couldn't tell if she was putting up a front or not but decided to school his features into a similar bored expression.

"Come now," Voldemort jeered. "Surely one of you knows who I speak of?"

Someone to the right of the circle, Yaxley, Harry thought, mumbled something unintelligible.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that," Voldemort teased, striding over with his robes billowing behind him. He leaned in uncomfortably close to Yaxley. Close enough that Yaxley could probably smell Voldemort's putrid breath. Something that Harry experienced due to his enhanced senses.

"Lucius Malfoy," Yaxley blurted out fearfully.

Voldemort leaned away from him and smiled. "Good!" he noted. "Yes, Lucius has most disappointed me… I left with him a possession of utmost importance. More important than I, arguably," many of the Death Eaters gulped. "And he threw it away for some… petty blood-rivalry," Voldemort waved his hand dismissively. "All was not lost for poor old Lucius, however. You see, Potter, in a stroke of arrogance, decided it was high time to expose the Malfoy fool. In defense of his… wonderful little friend here," Voldemort finally turned to acknowledge Harry and Ginny, though his skeletal hand was pointed directly at Ginny.

"Now, completely by accident, Lucius exposed something I had never thought of!" he continued. Pacing in front of where Harry and Ginny were suspended against the smooth tombstone. "He found another weakness… He found Ginevra,"

Harry didn't know how he did it. But Voldemort had somehow managed to emulate his sixteen-year-old self when he said her name. He saw Ginny's jaw clench and her glare grew pronounced.

"Little did I know that one of our most… well… relevant magical texts would be completed by this young girl," he smiled at Ginny and even Harry squirmed away at it. Voldemort's face simply wasn't made to smile. "Yes. Ginevra is most important… So, I have brought them here today for a bit of a spectacle," Voldemort continued, brushing off the details of whatever he had been on the verge of discussing. Voldemort wouldn't reveal anything to his followers. Not all of them at once, at the very least.

"And spectacle is… dueling!" he cried, waving his wand absently. The vines instantly disappeared and Harry and Ginny both fell to the ground in a heap. "Now, today I will test you. Barty, wands!" he ordered. Harry heard two soft thumps around he and Ginny, and he shakily rose to his feet. Ginny had lost so much blood, and though the blood-replenishing potion had done quite some work to rectify that, she was still deathly pale and weaker than normal.

"Please do not tell me that the old fool has failed to train you in the noble and ancient art of dueling?" Voldemort asked with mock horror. "Well, I shall teach you then," he said with another uncanny grin. He stared at them for a moment before gesturing to the large open space ahead of them where the cauldron once sat. The fog on the ground had dissipated somewhat. "Let's go. Spread out! I would like to face Ginevra first," Ginny took in a deep breath and walked calmly, though slowly, out into the clearing. The Death Eaters around them were jeering and laughing. Harry stood next to her.

"Well, come now, split up!" Voldemort ordered as they continued to stand near each other. "Alright, if you won't listen," he pointed his wand to Harry and yelled out in his shrill voice, "Imperio!"

Harry felt nothing as the curse was taken on by his mother for the most part. He knew she could fight it, so Harry just stood there defiantly. Staring right back at Voldemort with a contemptuous glare.

"My, my," Voldemort stated quietly. "Dumbledore can teach you to throw off the Imperius, yet he cannot teach you how to bow before your opponent," he paused and eyed both Harry and Ginny up and down. "Well, any battle between good and evil, light and dark, must start at some point, don't you think?" he sneered. "Let us see what else the meddlesome oaf has taught you. Bow, the both of you. Let us see what you can offer,"

Harry didn't like the way Voldemort was speaking. It confused him. He saw Ginny bow out the corner of his eye and he swallowed past the lump of worry in his throat before bowing back to Voldemort as well.

The man himself dipped his head to the pair of them and waited. "Do you have a speech to share? Something the light has engrained into your very souls?"

"Shut up Tom," Ginny hissed. It was the first Harry had heard her speak since hiding the Elder Wand. "There is no light or dark. Good or evil. There is only power and those too weak to seek it,"

Harry slowly turned his head to look at her. It was something Voldemort had once told him, long ago. It was supremely disconcerting to hear it come from the lips of one of his closest friends. She was glaring at Voldemort with that hard, blazing look again. Her lips were set in a firm line and her head was at an angle to let her jawline protrude. Her hair was falling out of its ponytail on the top of her head. She looked quite deranged.

"You want a duel?" she continued coolly. Harry noticed Voldemort's face was contorted into a surprised, but pleased expression. This wasn't right. "Fight me," Ginny shouted across the expanse that separated them.

Voldemort raised his wand and bellowed, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" the jet of bright green light burst from the tip of his wand like a plugged drain being repaired for the first time in decades. Ginny didn't respond at first. The killing curse was blinding, but it travelled slowly through the air. It wasn't a spell one used in a real fight. It was a finishing spell. Something to perform as an act of triumph and superiority.

The travel time of the spell would have been enough for Ginny to evade, but instead, she closed her eyes and Harry watched in awe as her expression lost any and all emotion before she forced them open and spoke in a measured tone, "Crucio!"

The spell left her wand like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Its circumference was not remotely similar to the killing curse's. It was thin and light and traveled fast. Its orange brilliance mixed with the green to illuminate the haunting landscape.

The spells crashed together in a flurry of power. The killing curse met its match against Ginny's Cruciatus. Each spell seemed to be climbing over each other in a large vertical circular plane. The spells clashed for dominance in the clearing. Stray bolts of magic would lash out around the plane only to be destroyed by the respective opposing spell.

Then, the strangest thing happened. The wands seemed to communicate with each other. The magic within each of them reached up and around the battling spells and touched one another. Some agreement seemed to have transpired, for Voldemort's spell suddenly canceled out. His wand refused to continue its curse. The green faded and left a wide-open area for the orange jet of light to shoot across and hit Voldemort straight in the chest.

He was blasted off the ground, screaming and writhing through the air. Ginny held the spell for a long while. She seemed to relish the sound. Her arm quivered slightly, and she shook her head. Her eyes widened at the sight before her, and she relinquished the spell, breathing hard.

Voldemort fell to the ground with a thump, and he did not rise. His followers ran to his side. All but one. Crouch watched the duel with a pensive expression.

Harry stared at Ginny as though she'd become a whole other person. He could understand why she'd chosen that spell. An unforgivable against an unforgivable was a safer bet than anything, but the way she'd held the curse afterwards conveyed years of practice.

At least, that was how she made it look.

She turned to face him. Tears lined her eyes and the tracks of those that had fallen before glistened in the moonlight. "Let's go," she said tearfully.

Ginny grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him off towards where they'd seen Fleur hiding. Ginny quickly levitated the Triwizard Cup, which had been left on the ground by Voldemort, and held it in front of her as they ran. A spell hit Harry in the knee, and he fell, bringing Ginny and the cup down with him.

"Just because those brown-nosed fools think they can graciously return to the Dark Lord's good books means nothing to those such as I, who have already proven themselves worthy," Crouch screeched, his wand levelled on the pair of them.

"FLEUR!" Ginny screamed, flicking her wand and launching the cup up and behind them over a good dozen tombstones. "RUN HOME! TELL THEM WHAT'S HAPPENED!"

"Ginny what are you doing!" Harry cried in horror at the same time as Crouch bellowed, "WHO IS THE SPARE? SHOW YOURSELF!"

"GET THE FUCKING CUP AND LEAVE!" Ginny wailed desperately, going so far as to turn onto her stomach so she could face Fleur's direction.

There was a moment of silence before they heard a faint popping sound.

Fleur had gone back to Hogwarts. Along with their only way of return.

Crouch lifted his knee and dug his heel into the small of Ginny's back. She hissed in pain and slammed her eyes shut in an attempt to negate her reaction. Harry lashed out with his right arm and tried to get Crouch's foot off Ginny, but he was slapped across the face by Crouch's free hand.

"Release her, Bartemius," said Voldemort, now standing and watching the situation appraisingly. Crouch visibly recoiled at the use of his father's name and stopped the pressure on Ginny's spine. Harry's right hand was still bleeding from the cut. He could feel the warm liquid around the handle of his wand. "I believe our little game ends here," Voldemort continued in his high voice. "You have both proven yourself…"

Voldemort stopped his speech abruptly and turned his attention down to Harry's wand hand. Voldemort flicked his wrist absently, and due to its slippery handle, Harry couldn't keep his grip as his wand was summoned to Voldemort's hand. He ran his fingers along its length. "Your wand sings to me, Potter," he whispered. The other Death Eaters, save Crouch, were cowering behind their master. Voldemort was speaking in a way that guaranteed a private conversation between the two students and himself.

"We share a wand core, it would seem," he deduced after a long while of feeling the wand. "It is fate that allowed me to avoid the effects of priori incantatem. They can be quite… catastrophic. I must confess, that my proficiency in wandlore is a weak spot." he paused, letting his eyes flick to Harry's, then Ginny's, then back to the wand. "A change of plans is in order," he announced to his followers. Pocketing Harry's wand and turning to face the half-circle of Death Eaters. "You will leave me now. All except for you. Barty, Wormtail… stay. For you serve a greater purpose." Crouch smirked triumphantly and Wormtail shivered. "Leave us!" Voldemort shouted once again to his band of followers. "Do not go about disobeying orders with me. Not after years of betrayal,"

The Death Eaters needed no further warning. They all quickly disapparated in a flurry of robes and various popping sounds.

Voldemort turned back to Harry and Ginny. "I will take you to my… ancestral home, of sorts," he grinned evilly and a flicked his wand at the pair of them. A jet of red light shot from its tip, and Harry knew no more.

---

When Harry next woke, he could still hear a distant ringing. He had no idea how much time had passed. It could have been hours or days. His body was laying face down against a stone floor. It was dreadfully cold and wasn't helped by the seemingly constant flow of cool summer air coming from somewhere above him. Remembering recent events, Harry made a stronger effort to wake himself up. His mother was helping him with his numbed senses. Clearly, she was taking on the brunt of his physical trauma. He raised his head off the ground and blinked owlishly. The room was well lit with an oil lamp hanging from the stone ceiling. There were wood shelves and large barrels lining the walls. They seemed to be in a cellar of sorts.

"Good, you're awake," it was Voldemort again. Harry rolled onto his back and sat up, noting Ginny was still unconscious on the floor. "I figured I might as well explain some things to you. Judging by our prior meetings, even those I had not been made aware of," he gestured to Ginny, "I can tell you're the curious type."

Harry clenched his jaw, the muscles around his face were sore and defeated. His limbs ached and he was horribly thirsty. He felt a touch lightheaded and wondered if it had been due to the bleeding from his palm.

"You see… I haven't many plans for you," Voldemort was standing in front of the stairs still dressed in his black robes. His arms were folded across his chest, and it made him appear almost normal had it not been for the scarlet eyes and his pale, snake-like appearance. "But for her? Oh, I haven't managed to wrap my mind around the possibilities."

"You won't lay a finger on her," Harry growled. "You've done enough to her already!" he'd been so worried about Ginny over the last few months. It seemed that her spiralling depression had only increased the more time passed since Charlie's death.

Voldemort smirked, unfolding his arms and slowly walking further into the cellar. "Good. Your protectiveness of her will only make my punishment to you hurt all the more," his eyes narrowed appraisingly, and he bent down to grab hold of Ginny's wrist. Pulling her limp form across the floor and closer to the stairs.

Harry tried to run forward, but something caught on his ankle, and he fell face-first to the floor. His nose was surely bruised, but he didn't think it had broken. On second thought, it might have; judging by the sudden trickle of blood forming in his nostrils. He looked down and around himself and saw a heavy metal chain attached to a tight cuff around his ankle.

He couldn't move, and there was no possible way for him to slip it off his foot.

"Do you know what I will do to you?" Voldemort asked with a touch of amusement, surely due to Harry's predicament. "I'll have you watch as she suffers. As I destroy her. You'll see as I corrupt her heart, her soul, and drive her mad!" Voldemort took a step away from Harry. Dragging Ginny's limp form by the wrist. "When I'm through with her… she'll see you as nothing more than what you have always been… a tool. A means to an end." he paused and let out a long breath. "That, Harry Potter, is how you will die. At the hands of your friend."

Harry could do nothing but pull at the metal chain. "GINNY!" he cried in horror. Voldemort only laughed. "Ginny wake up!" it was the same words he'd cried upon finding her body laying on the Chamber floor two years ago. He tried to reach within himself in a vain attempt at locating his magic. He found nothing, however, and Voldemort, along with Ginny, disappeared up the stairs and into darkness.

Harry felt tears form in his eyes and he blinked, only succeeding in forcing them to fall. Mucus and blood clogged his swollen nose. He reached up and tried to paw at it but felt only pain and a strange ridge. His nose was broken well and proper.

Ginny. All he could think about was Ginny. His mother's voice was drowned out as he ran the possibilities in his head. Ginny was strong, he knew that. She'd fought Voldemort off before. But over the past few months, he'd gotten the impression that she was hiding the bulk of what had happened. Perhaps she herself wasn't aware of it. Perhaps it was all hidden behind that memory block she'd been slowly mining away at over the course of the past year. He knew Ginny wouldn't fall for any of his tricks. Harry would do something to help her. He'd make sure he didn't get to her.

"Crying, Potter? Really?" it was Crouch again. He'd wormed his way down to the cellar while Harry had been lost in thought and pain. "I know your secret…" Crouch jeered, dragging out the last word like a teasing child.

Harry blew air out of his nose in anger and focused his attention on the man at the base of the stairs.

"A werewolf, eh? I saw the way that silver blade made you scream," he ambled over to where Harry lay. "I do love the screaming you know… Alice was quite good at it. She took a long time to break."

"You're fucking insane," Harry spat. He suddenly made the connection. Barty Crouch Jr. This was who Sirius had mentioned during the summer when Harry had been told about Neville's parents.

Crouch bobbed his head from side to side. "Insane? Or neglected by two people who should never have had children," he smiled down at Harry pityingly. "I will not inform the Dark Lord of your condition if you do me a simple favour,"

Harry sat in silence, still blocking out whatever his mother was saying. This was his life. These were his decisions. He needed to be here, grow up and take charge.

Crouch leaned down; his face unbearably close to Harry's. "Tell me who you'll miss most," he said in a breathy whisper, his knee pressing against Harry's stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

"Not you, that's for sure," Harry ground out through the lack of oxygen. He took it one step further and spat in Crouch's face.

The man recoiled and shook his head, wiping at Harry's saliva with his offhand. "Then I'll go off what you got in the Black Lake, eh?" he smirked and left a bewildered Harry behind.

---

The first thing Ginny was aware of was the smell of tea and freshly baked crumpets. She was sitting in something soft and inviting, and the heat of a fire was pressing against her legs comfortingly. She almost smiled and sunk deeper into whatever she sat in before the night's events caught up with her. She straightened her back and set her shoulders, forcing her eyes open and taking in the view before her.

Tom- no, Voldemort sat in the chair opposite, watching her hungrily. His fingers were interlocked, and he seemed totally unsurprised at her sudden movement. She could feel her wand in her pocket and cocked her head to the side in silent question.

"I believe you should know that I trust you with that," he said, pointing to her right where her wand was kept. "I have gazed into your mind and seem to have come across a bit of a block… though, of course, you know a fair bit… my Horcruxes are no secret to you, which is a mighty shame as Potter is also aware of that fact…" he trailed off and gazed into the fire. "Those will need to be… rehidden."

Ginny swallowed past the lump in her throat and continued to stare determinedly at Voldemort. She wouldn't fear this shell of a man.

"I believe I can remove the block. If you'll allow me to do so,"

"I'm not letting you anywhere near my head," she snapped. "I've been removing it on my own for months now! I can do it myself,"

Voldemort nodded absently. "Yes, well, I wouldn't expect anything less from you. A piece of me once knew you quite well. I doubt he'd have chosen you with little reason… I would like to get to know you just as intimately."

Ginny did desperately want to know what he was going on about. But she didn't want to grant him the satisfaction. She wanted to know why the diary had continued to use her. Why it wouldn't have chosen a target that wasn't so good at fighting him off. She'd done it twice, after all.

Voldemort reached within his robes and extracted an ornate golden chalice of some sort. He used his hand to levitate it over to the small end table to her right. There was something familiar about the cup. Its handles were engraved as though they were coated in golden fur.

"I believe this may jog your memory," Voldemort said silkily. "Come, Ginevra… you wish for the truth? Do you wish to see what happened inside your head? Touch the cup…"

Ginny hadn't even noticed her hand unconsciously raised and nearing one of the cup's handles. She quickly forced her hand away from the object and glared at him. "I am not an idiot. I won't fall for your ridiculous tricks."

She could feel a pressing need to touch the cup. To hold it. To drink from it. But she pushed it down. It was so eerily similar to the way the diary had felt. Of course, at the time, she'd assumed it was just a passion for writing or some other ridiculous false meaning. Now she knew different. These were compulsion charms.

"Impressive," Voldemort noted, inclining his head. "To be able to fight my magic like that is, well… unheard of,"

"Harry defeated you when he was a year old!" she shouted, rising off the armchair and standing over Voldemort. "Do not tell me you have grown arrogant already, mere hours after your return!"

"You harbour an understanding of my person?" he asked inquisitorially, raising the skin above his right eye. If he'd had eyebrows, it would have been far more impressive. "Interesting…"

Ginny wanted nothing more than to murder this… thing in front of her. But she couldn't. Not even to the most fowl of men.

She found herself collapsing back into her armchair. She folded her arms across her chest and stared at her lap.

Without meaning to, her eyes slowly traced their way across her legs, onto the arm of the chair, and to the golden cup on the table. There was an engraving on its side, she noticed. It was a badger. Its paws and snout were clearly visible.

The second she recognized Hufflepuff's cup, the dam broke.

It was like hundreds of years of pent-up pressure erupted out the opening, letting it widen. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she remembered.

She remembered.

Ginny was inspecting her reflection in the mirror. She looked different. Her hair was long and well kept. Her robes were fabulous in design. Her face had thinned out in all the right places, losing that childish look about her. She was older. Sixteen, perhaps. "Why do I look older?" she asked the man standing in the reflection behind her.

"Don't you like it? I know I do…" said Tom, smiling at her through the mirror. Ginny whirled around and inspected her surroundings. She was in the room. The one she'd go to as she fell asleep. Or perhaps it was as she woke. She didn't know anymore. Sometimes she couldn't tell whether she was dreaming or living. It had been confusing and worrying at first, but Tom had told her it was special.

She was special.

She'd been told she was special all her life. But that had been for no reason other than her gender. She was special because her mother had craved a daughter.

"Come here, Ginevra, let me show you what you've missed…" Tom offered his hand, and she took it.

The scene changed. They were standing together on a terrace. "The stars are beautiful tonight, don't you think?" Ginny noted to Tom on her right. Enough time had passed that when she slept or woke, she didn't care anymore… well, she'd be eleven one minute, and sixteen the next. Her mind was a haze of confusion, but she didn't care. The man next to her held her attention.

"They are…" said Tom turning to face her. His pupils grew large as he took in her appearance. Ginny liked it when he looked at her that way. "I have a gift for you," he said after a few moments of staring at her. Ginny's body heated and she shook herself. He hadn't ever given her a gift.

He reached deep within his robes and pulled out a chain. The chain led to a large golden locket. There was a serpentine 'S' formed by emerald jewels on the front of the locket. It looked heavy and expensive.

"I can't take something like that!" she fought. "It's much too expensive,"

"Ginevra you're worth more than gold," he said emotionally. His eyes bored into hers and she shivered.

"I wish you wouldn't call me that," she reminded him for the umpteenth time. "I like it when people call me Ginny,"

Tom shook his head exasperatedly, taking another step forward. "Your given name is beautiful. As is the woman you've become,"

It was true. Ginny liked what she saw in the mirror every morning, or perhaps it was the evening. She tried not to think about it too much.

What was real and what wasn't?

But their life in this manor home in the village of Little Hangleton was what she prayed to be true.

Tom unclasped the chain and leaned in close to Ginny. His body pressed up against hers as his hands wove around her neck to place the locket properly. His fingers tickled her skin as they gently brushed past. It left a trail of goose pimples behind.

He leaned back a bit, his hands still holding her neck delicately. "This is a gift beyond measure," he whispered into her ear. "A piece of my soul… of my love for you,"

Ginny sucked in a breath and watched as Tom leaned away from her. His eyes shone with sincerity, and she took a moment to think of everything that had happened over the last few months, days, hours, weeks, she did not know. It was all so confusing.

The chain weighed heavily on her neck and chest.

Was that what she'd been feeling all this time? Love? Ever since she'd first woken in this… dreamscape of hers, she'd lived the life of her dreams. The money and fame meant nothing to her, it was Tom's friendship and guidance that made it so worthwhile. Writing to him had been extraordinary but living alongside him was so much more.

She didn't have time to think about it any further, for Tom leaned down and captured her lips in a searing kiss...

On and on they went. Memory after memory.

Of Tom's life. A boy running around an orphanage. There was a girl with blonde hair who kept coming back up throughout the orphanage trips along with a boy.

He brought them to a cave.

There was more. Beatings, bullying, stealing. There was no love to be found in the cold desolate hollows of Tom Riddle's Mind.

Of her life. How she'd be eleven again with rooster feathers all over herself. How she'd tried to get the Basilisk to only petrify its prey.

Of their lives together in this strange dream that was oh so real.

They were happy, they kissed, they touched.

She loved him.

Or perhaps, she thought she did.

Nothing was clear.

Months passed. Living two lives. Two lives she could not distinguish from each other...

The memory shifted again. She was lying on the floor screaming. Her left arm was held out and Tom was watching her writhing form with a manic expression. "Stop moving!" he shouted. Ginny immediately froze, whimpering with the pain from the burn. "It'll be over quick, I promise." he took the iron, emblazoned with the image of a snake slithering out of the mouth of a human skull and embedded it into the inside of her left forearm. It was pain beyond description. It left constant pressure on her left wrist. From then on, she'd grow anxious without that pressure...

Again, the memory changed. She was wearing a ball gown and striding tearfully off the floor. She was trying to walk as fast as she could through the people around her. She'd just fallen asleep after seeing Harry Potter watching her in the Common Room. He'd stared at her for a good minute before reddening and turning away. She knew now what was real and what wasn't. This place with Tom was nothing but a dream.

She heard his footsteps behind her, and she started running. Lifting her ballgown up by the hems and trying to do the best she could in her heels. It was not to be, however, as she tripped and tumbled to the floor.

"What's wrong, Ginevra? Where are you going?"

"I'm waking up!" she shouted over her shoulder, refusing to make eye contact with him. Whenever they did, she'd feel all weak in the knees.

She hated the effect he had on her. He'd made her feel things she'd never thought possible.

He'd also made her do things she'd never thought possible.

"Waking up? From what? What is there to rise from?" he asked, kneeling before her. She threw her gaze back to the floor.

"This isn't real, Tom. This ISN'TREAL!" she wailed. She could feel the tears running down her face. "Please just let me wake up,"

"Why would you want to? You love ME. You NEED me!" Tom dipped a finger under her chin and forced her to look up at him. She shut her eyes tight and tried to breathe steadily through her nose.

"Get out of my head!" she screamed. The world around her faded in a puff of smoke, and she sat bolt upright in her four-poster at Hogwarts. She shook her head, her red hair flying all around her face. She stumbled out of bed, immediately attempting to get used to the height difference. She dug through her trunk and found the diary.

Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed hard. She grabbed a robe and wrapped it snuggly around her petite, eleven-year-old frame. She ran down the steps out into the common room.

She needed to throw this diary away. Flush it down the toilet, perhaps.

The memory changed again. She was back in her head. Sixteen again. She sobbed as she realized what she'd done. She'd seen Harry with the diary earlier that day, and she couldn't bear to see Tom destroy him the way he'd destroyed her. She'd do anything to keep Harry from suffering the same fate.

She'd raided his dormitory rather… excessively. The diary wasn't too difficult to find, and she'd taken it back. Now that it was close to her again, she knew her dreams would once again be more than what they should be.

"You betrayed me," Tom spoke softly from somewhere behind her. They were standing somewhere in a castle. She was dressed in medieval royal clothing. The gown was scratchy and primitive.

"I can't believe you betrayed me… you know how much I despise traitors," the way Tom spoke was as though he was truly offended by what she'd done. If Ginny didn't know any better, she'd think he was emotional over the whole ordeal.

She looked up at him, attempting to perform her most hateful glare even through the tears that had begun to form in her eyes. She was shocked to see Tom looking back at her with an expression of true sadness. His face was set in that of such despair that she couldn't help but take it seriously.

"I'll need to keep a closer watch on you from now on…" he strode towards her, there was something silver in his hand. She absently scratched at the dark mark he'd emblazoned onto her skin and waited for whatever new horror he'd lay on her next.

"I knew you were powerful… but to have to magically chain you within your mind itself… you are so much more than you could possibly understand." Tom lifted the silver item in his hand out of shadow. It was a beautiful tiara. A brilliant sapphire was set into its crest. Intricate wings were carved around its rim. "Wear this for me, Ginevra… or Potter dies,"

Ginny closed her eyes for a moment and let the despair of her life settle through her. The heavy locket that still hung around her dream self only seemed to channel her negative thoughts. She blindly reached out and grabbed hold of the defiled treasure. Her hands shook as she placed it upon her brow, but a hazy sense of indifference greeted her once she did. It was blissful oblivion.

"Do you wish to know why you are so special?" Tom asked soothingly, offering a hand for Ginny to help herself up. The tiara seemed to speak to her. It doubled Tom's voice. The locket seemed to perform a similar effect.

"Yes," she said distractedly. She wanted to do something. She wanted to act on a need that was brewing deep within her.

"First in seven. First of seven. She rises as the sword falls," a sword appeared out of thin air in Tom's clutches, and he let it clatter to the floor. "Born to those lesser with the power to conquer them all, she is the key, the key to it all. First in seven. First of seven."

Ginny turned her dizzy head to Tom. She felt drunk, something she and Tom had done together many times while she'd been trapped within her own mind. "What does that mean?" she asked dazedly.

"It means you are mine," he said gently, caressing her cheek. "I have let the sword fall," he pointed to the sword on the floor. "I have activated Prophecy Forty… together, we will remake this world!"

He paused again and made a wide sweeping gesture to the beautiful lands stored within her mind. She knew it wasn't real, at least… she thought she did. But the diadem, or tiara, or whatever the hell it was made her thoughts a little hazy.

"You are the key, Ginevra. The key to it all!"

Ginny quirked her head to the side in confusion, Tom took this as nothing more than an invitation for him to kiss her.

Horrible flashes met her mind. Green light, animals, bodies.

Fire.

"Rise, Ginevra..."

The memory changed again. She was standing in a burning village. Her wand was held aloft. The power flowing through her veins felt wonderful as she let the bodies fall. Her eyes sought out Tom. He flashed a dazzling smile her way and Ginny laughed at the implication. She wobbled over to one of their victims. He was a pureblood, but that didn't really matter when you wanted to have a bit of fun, did it? He stared up at her with glassy eyes. He'd died under the power of her Cruciatus. A horrified expression lined his features. She severed a cut in his exposed neck and levitated a large globule of blood up and into a small golden chalice with a badger engraved on the side. She inspected the contents and stirred it before pouring it out onto her left forearm. It soaked into the dark mark, and she shivered.

Again, the memory changed. She was eleven again, she knew she was. She was alive. And she felt alright. She felt safe and comfortable. And happy! But what had drawn her out of her constant blank memories? Spaces of time she could not explain. What had taken her away from Tom's clutches? She felt like a drowning man taking a breath of fresh air for the first time in decades.

It was Harry. He had asked her if she was alright. He was still staring at her with a concerned expression. She smiled brilliantly at his attention. It wasn't that she craved his presence. Not anymore. It was more the fact that he had noticed. That perhaps he had seen that something was wrong.

He reacted to her smile with one of his own. She'd do anything to keep him smiling like that. So she nodded, and said, "Yes, just a bit tired,"

"YOU SPOKE WITH HIM AGAIN?" Tom thundered. His short, elegant hair fell over his eyes. "How does he continue to break my hold over you?"

Ginny shook her head, breathing hard through her nose and glaring at Tom. "Why do you need me? Why do you hold on to me? You don't love me!" she screeched incredulously. "You don't care about me! Even if you wanted to, you couldn't! I am nothing to you!"

"You are EVERYTHING!" he bellowed, his eyes were frantic, and his mannerisms spun. Ginny tore off the dreaded tiara and was filled with the comforting sense of herself. "You… you have no idea!" Tom continued.

"I am a child of prophecy! A prophecy you forced into action in a dream! I am not real. This is not real!" she made a wide sweeping gesture to the castle grounds around them. "Let me go!"

Tom eyed her intently. For a moment, he seemed to consider it. Deep within his eyes, she saw it.

Remorse.

But it was gone in a flash. "I will drain you. I will take away everything that makes you live, breathe, think, smile, laugh, love, hate, tick-"

"Get out of my head!" she wailed. Shoving his chest hard. He stumbled back and laughed mirthlessly.

"I will!" he roared. "I'll leave you be! But your soul will be long gone!"

The memory went hazy again. She was drifting. Floating on a sea of clouds. Then, the voice came. The one that could rouse her from the deepest of sleep.

Even from her dreaded possession.

"Ginny!" Harry muttered. "Ginny! Don't be dead. Please don't be dead." she heard the sound of someone collapsing to the floor and the clattering of a wand. A warmth spread through her from the shoulders down. "Ginny please! Wake up!" Harry cried desperately.

Her eyes flung open. She was in her dream world. The pressure of the locket and diadem was once again present. A sword lay to her right. Tom stood there in an odd sort of trance. She slowly got to her feet and watched Tom's still form.

"You're awake," he said absently, suddenly drawn back to the dream world. A copy of himself must have been moving and speaking to Harry outside her body. This was simply Tom's mind communicating with hers. "I'm afraid to say you won't be here much longer," he continued in that same dispassionate voice.

Ginny knew it to be true. She felt dizzy, and not in the drunken way his gifts made her feel, but in a genuine lack of energy. She shook her head dazedly to try and force herself awake and aware. "This is my head," she said to herself. Tom sneered at her. It was forced, however. As though he did not wish to perform what he was in the midst of doing.

"This is my head… so I can do what I want," she spoke more confidently this time. She was reaching within herself into the last dregs of power that remained. "I can do whatever I wish… because really, this is all just a dream,"

Tom eyed her warily. "So, you learn the fundamentals of occlumency in the span of a minute,"

Ginny narrowed her eyes. The world around them shifted. They were standing on a bridge now. Below them there waged a war of unknown proportions. Thousands of men on horseback clashed on the frontlines below. The sky itself was dizzy of storms. Lightning flashed and seemed to fight each other.

"it's all just a metaphor," Ginny said airily. Their bridge morphed into a large circular plane for them to move around each other. "This war… these storms. It's our minds. Our souls. They're fighting for dominance."

Her imagination was running wild. Creating the images they now stood in.

This world they were in was her own to control, to manipulate. Tom was nothing but an outsider.

Tom inclined his head. "Very good, Ginny. But you cannot fight me. You don't have it in you," Ginny noticed the sudden change to the name he'd never used. The one she preferred. He'd always called her Ginevra; he liked it that way.

But now he was calling her Ginny. Whether to distance himself from their past, or trying to win her over, she did not know.

Ginny let out a shaky breath. "You have no control over me. You have no say in what I can or cannot do." the locket around her neck exploded in a shower of gold and glass. "This is my mind," a crack appeared on the silver ring of the diadem. Her imagined army pushed forward against Riddle's. "My soul!" she continued. Another audible crack and a battle cry resounded from below. They were winning. "And my life!" she heard the creaking of glass as the sapphire in the center began to splinter.

"Get the FUCK out of my head!" she roared. The sapphire shattered. The remnants of the gorgeous blue gemstone went everywhere as the crown fell apart and off her brow.

She waved her hand and a ruby-incrusted sword materialized within her grip. This was her mind. Her creativity fueled everything that happened here. What she was doing wasn't even magic.

Tom watched her actions with his mouth agape, his eyes a swirl of despair. "You will always love me," he said coldly. "You will always need me!" She ignored him and thrust the sword forward and into Tom's chest. As the light shone dazzlingly from the wound she'd created, he bellowed, "YOU ARE WHAT I MADE YOU!"

No blood sprouted. He merely vanished, along with his respective storm and imagined army. Her world fell apart and blew away like the sands of Egypt.

But she could hear screaming, flailing, writhing, and a final wooden clatter of a wand.

She woke and found Harry. She was so genuinely relieved but knew she couldn't share the truth. It was easier to hide it. She was eleven again. It was all a passing nightmare. She might as well act like it.

She told him she'd seen Riddle come out of the diary. She explained that she tried to fight it. It was all lies.

All lies.

And the wall went up with the force of a killing curse. A block so powerful that no one could break through it.

Not even Dumbledore.

Not even Voldemort.

Ginny sat up with a great shuddering gasp. Voldemort remained seated in front of her. "Memories are frightening sometimes… don't you think, Ginevra?"

She'd lived a life inside her head.

His voice sounded so eerily similar, so unbelievably perfect to the Riddle she'd just received a lifetime's worth of memories from, that she quivered in her seat.

She'd loved him.

Voldemort's eyes, however, lacked any of the humanity that Tom had held. With a triumphant, deranged smile, she stood. "Tom Riddle died a long time ago. You are nothing to me. You are nothing worth fearing!"

She'd loved him.

"Memories… they'll catch up to you," he said, uncaring of her statement. "Wormtail will lead you to the cellar. We will speak again."

What kind of person did that make her?

Ginny whirled around and nearly bowled over Pettigrew. She stepped on his foot, hard, and the rat winced. He stumbled forward and led her down to the cellar of the Riddle House.

---

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Master?" Crouch asked from the shadows.

Voldemort let out a long breath, feeling his arms and face and reveling in his own touch. It felt so good to be alive again. "Oh, she's worth every second," he replied.

"Yes, but… she's devoted to Potter, you can see it in the way she tried to defend him earlier in the graveyard… loyalty isn't easily broken," Crouch retorted.

Voldemort turned to look over the back of the chair. "She trusted me before… she'll trust me again."

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A/N: I can finally talk about this! Yay!

Clarification: it is meant to be confusing and disorientating. If you don't think you understand what's going on, reread the memory scenes, and try to piece it together.

God this chapter has so much stuff hidden inside it, I love it to bits. Yes, there is still stuff we haven't seen, but you get the gist of what happened. Ginny will talk about it more. There is a lot of stuff left deliberately vague and unfinished. This GOES somewhere.

Tom switching to calling her Ginny while the events of the final chapters of CoS are happening is for continuity. I hope you guys liked and or noticed that little nod.

It was a deliberate choice to not feature too many Ginny POV moments ever since Chapter 11 when she first started breaking the memory block. The moments we do get with her are either Riddle related or a cute little moment of her noticing something. Ginny's POV chapters and moments will be more common from now on.

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Spoilers!

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A few chapters back, I posted the names of the upcoming chapters for people to read and speculate. You may have noticed that a lot of those names either changed or didn't appear. That's because a story evolves as you write, and sometimes you realize that you don't need as much time as you may have relegated.

In some cases, you need a lot MORE time than you've given yourself. (Look no further than chapters 20-22 and 24-26)

So, as a fun experiment in a lot of ways, I thought I'd share all the planned chapters. Each of these has a synopsis (That I will NOT be sharing for obvious reasons), and I have a rudimentary to exquisite understanding of what will happen in each.

Anyway, I think looking back at this list down the line will be rather interesting. So, I'm leaving it here. Enjoy trying to decipher what lies below.

Obviously light spoilers:

Next Chapter:

29. The Shattering of Ronald Weasley's Worldview:

Summer (Act Three):

30. New, Crescent, Quarter, Gibbous, Full

31. Black

32. The Lord of the Lake

33. Always.

34. The Peverell Chamber

35: Then Why Do We Pretend?

Act Four

36. Harry? Ginny? Do you copy?

37. The Ferret Fights Back

38: I Must Not Tell Lies

39. Padfoot's Flaw

40. Potter's Army

41. The Champions

42. The Moon Shines Bright Tonight

43. Educational Decree Number Twenty-Eight

44. Wit Beyond Measure

45. The New Professor

46. No Eyes for a Blind Snake

47. Regretfully Uncaring

48. Daphne's Dilemma

49. The Last Scamander

50. The Voice of Reason

51. Waking Dreams and Living Nightmares

52. He Was Guarding Something

53. I Wouldn't Remember Me Either

Act Five

54. A War to End All Wars

55. The No-Maj with a Case

56. Man's Greatest Treasure

57. The Deathly Hallows

58. Dragons on the Eastern Front

59. Passchendaele

60. (Hidden for Spoilers)

61. Daphne Wakes

Major Time Jump. Act Six:

62. Charlotte

63. Teddy Lupin's Halloween

64. Grindelwald and the Qilin

65. Newt Scamander's Cure

66. Weasley's Don't Stay Down

67. Fleur Weasley: Curse Breaker

68. Me? Books and Cleverness?

69. End the War. Kill it.

Act Seven

70. Tom Marvolo Riddle

71. Black and Edwards

72. Do you not fear death?

73. Greyback's Comfort

74. Berlin

75. I don't need you

76. Gellert, my love,

77. Lady Greengrass

78. Queenie's Sight

79. Blood Brothers

80. The Silver Spear

81. You are no father of mine

82. Severus and Lily

83. The Battle of Hogwarts

84. The Only One He Ever Loved

85. Until the End

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